feet, and for a moment she began to sink to her knees in order to relieve herself of her last meal. She leaned toward the footman, making a gagging noise, and he drew back instinctively, releasing her.
It was all she needed. In a moment she was gone, disappearing into the throngs that crowded the main thoroughfare of that miserable part of the city.
She could bless the new boots, and thank Mrs. Clarke most heartily for them, she thought as she raced through the streets, turning corners, making her way deeper and deeper into the seedy underbelly of Rue du Pélican. He would be no match for her, she could outrun anybody when she so desired, thanks to her long legs and determination, and besides, she knew this area well. The footman would be at a loss.
No, Monsieur le Comte would have no choice but to return to his den of iniquity, and Lydia would be safe.
Elinor slowed down to a brisk trot, pulling her shawl more tightly about her. He would have had to get out and walk—that, or have his coachman find a sedan chair in order to reach the back alley that held their wretched little house, and even then he’d have a hard time finding it. Granted, one of his coachmen knew of the place, since Jacobs had been forced to direct him there in order to return her mother, but by the time Francis Rohan got home he would have lost interest in a plain woman with a secret.
The alleyway that held her small house looked even more dismal than usual, and as she scrambled up the two steps to the entry she felt the cold begin to reach into her bones. That pelisse had been lovely, and would have looked beautiful on Lydia. But safety was a far greater treasure.
She pushed open the door and froze, momentarily afraid that somehow Lord Rohan had managed to defy the laws of nature and arrive there before her. A tall man was standing over her sister, and even in the shadowy light she could see her sister’s vivid smile, and she let out a groan, a real one this time.
The man turned, and it wasn’t Rohan. Of course it wasn’t; it was the scarred man from the night before, the one who had had a half-clad demimondaine on his arm. A man who was talking to her sister, looking at her. A man who was no better than Rohan himself.
Lydia jumped up, her smile wider than ever. “Nell, I was so worried about you!” she cried. “Mr. Reading told me there was nothing to be concerned about, but you were gone all night, and ever since that time you went away to Italy I’ve been…”
“I’m fine, darling!” Elinor said swiftly, forestalling Lydia’s artless comments. Even if Lydia hadn’t been able to put two and two together, a more jaded member of society would have no trouble jumping to conclusions, and she couldn’t afford to let that happen.
“This is Mr. Reading, Nell. He was kind enough to escort Mummy home.”
Only Lydia called Lady Caroline by the cozy “mummy.” If their mother had had any favorite besides her own dedicated self-interest, it would be her lovely younger daughter. Elinor herself looked too much like her father’s branch of the family, and she had what Lady Caroline considered to be the disconcerting habit of giving her opinion when asked. She hadn’t bothered sugarcoating it for her mother in years, and Lady Caroline hadn’t thanked her.
“Very kind,” Elinor murmured. “But we can handle things from this point.” She couldn’t quite hold the door for him, but she still made her point that he needed to leave, and now.
His smile tugged at the ugly scar on his otherwise handsome face. “Rohan would expect nothing less from me. Your mother appears to have quieted, but I’m not sure I should take the footmen with me, even though I’m being summarily dismissed.”
It was a challenge, one Elinor met smoothly. “It’s starting to snow, and it’s a long way back to the château. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you getting caught in a snowdrift.”
“Only if you pushed me in, Miss Harriman, which you look tempted to do.” He caught Lydia’s small hand in his and gave her an extravagant kiss. There was no missing the look in her sister’s eyes, though Elinor hoped and prayed Reading wasn’t alert enough to read it.
“Let me just check on our mother,” Elinor said. “I would expect from